


Nice Shirt

by justthehiddles



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Smut, Tom doesn't get it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:34:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23964718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justthehiddles/pseuds/justthehiddles
Summary: After two years of being in a relationship with Tom, you start to question whether you are putting your own dreams aside for this relationship.  You make a hard choice but is it the right one?
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Reader
Kudos: 51





	Nice Shirt

2016

Tom couldn’t sleep after comic-com panels. The adrenaline pumped through him, and he couldn’t sleep for hours. He tried to convince Chris Hemsworth to go to the bar with him, but he begged off.

“You can talk to your wife any time. But how often do you get to bar hop in Philadelphia?”

“Nah, mate.” Chris responded. “I am absolutely wiped. But go have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Chris clapped him hard on the shoulder.

“Ehehehe.” Tom chuckled. “Of course. Brother.”

The two men parted with a hug, and Tom headed for his car.

“James…” Tom asked his driver. “Do you know any good bars?”

The man smiled in the rearview mirror. “How good?”

“The best.”

“I know just the place.”

-

You weren’t sure how you ended up at Frankford Hall, but here you were, beer in one hand, ping pong paddle in the other.

“Whoo!” you hooted as you beat the young frat guy on the other side of the table. “That’s how it’s done!”

Someone tugged on the back of your shirt, you spun wide, sloshing your beer. You weren’t drunk yet, but the buzz was flowing.

“JESS!!” you screamed. “You made it!”

You pulled your best friend into the tightest hug. She mumbled something against your chest.

“What?”

“I said…” Jess pushed off of you. “… we need to get some food into you.”

“Excellent idea.”

You linked arms and headed inside to order some food.

-

Tom reminded himself to thank James for the excellent suggestion. He never would have picked a biergarten for the night but with ping pong and authentic food. It hit the spot after a long day of photographs and signing photos.

“Hey!” a voice beside him cut through the din of the bar.

“Pardon?” Tom answered, turning to find you standing there.

“Nice shirt, Paul!”

“The name’s Tom.”

Your head ducked as you burst out into laughter.

“I was calling you Paul Bunyan. You know, the lumberjack. Plaid shirt.”

Tom glanced down, forgetting he had thrown on his well worn red plaid shirt.

“Oh, right. Eheheheh.” Tom gave a nervous chuckle.

The waiter plopped a plate in front of Tom. Bratwurst. Tom licked his lips and took a big bite, bits of sauerkraut falling to the plate.

“I like a man who can handle his sausage.” you flirted.

The waiter delivered your and Jess’s appetizers, laying the plates in front of you. Tom eyed your food while taking a big swig of beer.

“I like a woman with a big appetite.” Tom countered, turning on his stool to give you a once over.

“Good to know.” You licked your thumb after popping a bit of pretzel in your mouth. “How are you with a paddle?”

Tom choked on his beer. “I beg your pardon?”

You lifted your chin to the outside.

“Ping pong. What did you think?” You returned the favor of allowing your gaze to slide up and down his long lean body, lingering on some places more than others.

“No comment. Let me finish this beer and I will meet you out there.”

You grabbed your plates and headed outside.

“It is about time. I worried you got lost in there.” Jess grumbled as you shoved her food at her.

“Jess! You will never guess who I just ran into in there!”

-

Two Years Later

“What on earth are you doing?” Tom questioned as he viewed drawers opened and the closet door thrown ajar.

“Packing, Tom.” you sighed as you folded up shirts, deciding which ones to pack and which ones to leave behind. “That is what one does when getting ready to travel.”

“I thought we decided you weren’t going to take that job.” Tom sat down on the bed, jostling your suitcase.

Your hands gripped the once folded shirts.

“No, you talked to me for two hours about all the reasons why I shouldn’t move back to the States and then you changed the subject every time I tried to bring it back up again. But there was never any ‘we’ in this decision, Tom. I’m going.”

“Why?” Tom’s voice cracked. “I thought we… you were happy living with me here in London.”

You sighed as you shoved a couple pairs of boots into the suitcase. “I was.” Tom smiled a slight smile. “But I realized if I stayed here, all I would ever be is your girlfriend.”

“You make it sound like a prison sentence.” Tom mumbled.

“For me, it would be. I have dreams and goals of my own and no matter how hard I try, it would always be overshadowed by you. Or worse, pitied or given special treatment because of you.” You shoved the last of your clothes and pushed the lid down and struggled to zip the case closed.

Tom fidgeted with his hands in his lap.

“We could have talked about all this before you booked your flight. We can still talk about it, delay your flight.” His voice grew shrill. “We can make this work. Just don’t leave. Not like this.”

His hand slid over to grab yours. You sat down beside him, giving his hand a brief squeeze before extracting your fingers from his grip.

“My lectures start tomorrow.” A horn beeped. “That’s my taxi.”

Tom bolted to standing. “You can’t possibly be leaving now! Let me drive you to the airport. Something!”

You stood too. You rose on your toes. Your hands rubbed across the stubble on his chin and cheeks. Tom’s eyes squeezed closed at your touch and tears streamed down to your fingertips. You pressed your lips to his and sighed. Tom gripped your sweater like his life depended on it. The sound of the taxi honking again interrupted your embrace.

You squeezed his shoulders hard. “I need to go. I will call you when I land.”

Tom nodded. He grabbed your suitcase and carried it to the door. You reached for it, but he held on.

“Please reconsider. I love you.” Tom pleaded.

“I love you too. But I love me more.” You kissed his cheek. “I’ll call from Philly. Take care of yourself.”

Tom bit his lip in hopes to stifle his anguish. He released his grip on the handle as he nodded at you. You kissed his cheek and stepped out the door. He stood at the threshold until you waved from the backseat of the cab.

Tom gave a tight smile and a small wave until you disappeared into view. Once the door clicked behind him, Tom crumpled to the floor, his legs ceasing to function. Bobby trotted over to check on him, and Tom burrowed his head into Bobby’s soft fur.

He sat there for 30 minutes until his phone rang. He sent it to voicemail. It rang again. This time he turned the phone off and chucked across the foyer. He dragged himself to the couch where he lay until there was a knock at the door.

He jumped to his feet and ran to the door, hoping you had changed your mind.

“I’m so glad you—” he exclaimed as he flung the door open.

“Glad to see you too, mate. Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Luke responded as a disheveled Tom met him at the door. “What the hell happened!?”

Tom’s face fell. “She’s gone.” he croaked out as he fell against Luke.

Luke stood bewildered as he walked Tom back into his house and hoped to unravel just what had Tom in such a state.

-

Three Weeks Later

It was Tom’s first time leaving the house since you left. Luke made sure he had groceries and cleared his calendar of what few things were on it.

Tom had been planning a surprise vacation with you. Which Luke had to cancel. And now Tom sat in a corner booth of his favorite restaurant waiting for Benedict to arrive.

“Shall I get you something to drink?” The waiter asked as Tom ignored the menu.

“A pint. And keep them coming.” he grumbled, not bothering to take off his sunglasses.

“Are you sure that’s a wise decision giving your current emotional state?” Ben’s voice questioned as the waiter walked away.

“Why the fuck not? I am in mourning.”

“It’s been three weeks, Tom. You can not continue on like this. Your liver will never make it.”

“Want to bet?”

“Your GP would agree with me. Nice shirt, by the way. You’ve got a real brooding lumberjack vibe going on.”

Tom glanced down at the red plaid and tears welled in his eyes.

“That’s what she said the night we met.” Tom’s voice cracked.

Ben’s face softened at the wreck of Tom. “I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know. I never wear the shirt any more. But I haven’t been doing laundry as much.”

“Or showering either.” Benedict takes an exaggerated sniff.

“Not helping, mate.” Tom shot daggers across the table.

“How can I help? I assume that is why I am here. Since you are not taking any calls.”

“I broke my phone chucking it across the room. Haven’t bothered to replace it.”

Ben pressed his hands flat. “You might want to get on that. Perhaps she is trying to call you. I was under the impression you were smarter than this.” He shook his head at Tom.

Tom perked up. “I hadn’t thought about that. Do you think she has reached out?”

“Well, you won’t know until you talk to her.” Tom’s eyes sparkled and sat up straighter. “There’s the Tom Hiddleston I know.” Ben smiled.

“Thank you, Ben. You are a loyal friend.”

“I’m your best friend. And I only want you to be happy. And as payment for my expert relationship advice, you are paying for lunch.”

“With pleasure.” Tom smiled for the first time in weeks.

-

Tom’s mood was short lived. He stopped by the store and replaced his phone. He listened to your voicemail from that day you left. And then nothing. Not a text, not a call. Radio silence.

“Hello, darling. It’s Tom. Sorry I haven’t called sooner. A bit of an accident with my phone. I would very much like to talk to you. To hear your voice. Call me, please. Any time, day or night.”

He sighed as he left the message and stared at the phone for the rest of the night. It didn’t ring.

-

Two Months Later

It was three months since you moved to Philadelphia and began your adjunct position at Penn. You only gained some semblance of normal in the past few days.

“And that is it for today.” You addressed the class. “See you on Thursday.”

The auditorium emptied quickly as students rushed to either their next lecture or something else to do. With a huff, you heaved your bag onto your shoulder and headed to your office on campus.

“Hello?” you answered your phone.

“Any word?” Jess’s voice asked on the other end.

“I told you. He doesn’t have this new number, and I lost his when my phone took a swim in the toilet.”

“Then email him.”

“If he wanted to talk, he would have called those first few days. He has moved on.”

“You are a stubborn ass. You just don’t want to reach out first and have to admit you made a mistake. That you still love him and still want him.”

“That’s not true. He’s busy. He has projects. He probably isn’t even in London right now.” you lied to yourself. You hated when Jess was right.

“Bullshit. You’re scared. Fine, don’t do anything and throw away the best thing that ever happened in your life.”

“Hey! This job is the best thing that happened to me. It moved me closer to you.”

“I would give up our weekly lunches to see you happy. Are you happy?”

You sat down silent at your desk. She was happy, she thought, right? That was the whole point of this. The move was meant to help her reach her goals. Everything felt hollow instead of empowering.

“Yeah, yeah.” you lied to Jess. “Of course, I’m happy. That was the whole point.”

“Still calling bullshit. Remember Jason is coming to pick you up for lunch tomorrow because I have that client meeting.”

“Thank you for reminding me. Bye Jess.”

“Talk to Tom.” she blurted out before you ended the call.

You laid your head on your desk and sighed.

-

The next morning dragged on. You loved teaching communication, but today your heart was somewhere else. Jess’s words weighed you down like an anchor.

“And what percentage of communication is communicated nonverbally?” you asked the class.

You scanned the room to find someone to call on. Out of the corner of your eye, you spied a red plaid shirt. Just like the one Tom wore at Frankford Hall years ago.

“Ah…” you lost your train of thought. You glanced again but couldn’t find the shirt again. “… yes?” you pointed at someone in the third row.

You spent the rest of the lecture searching the room for the owner of the shirt, but he had disappeared. You convinced yourself you imagined the entire thing.

“Let’s end class early. Enjoy it because it won’t happen again.” you announced.

The class cheered as they packed up for the day. You waited until the hall was empty just to double check for Tom.

“You are losing it.” you mumbled to yourself.

-

Tom convinced Luke he was ready to work again. Starting with some radio appearances in New York. Luke wasn’t convinced Tom didn’t have a hidden agenda.

“Are you sure you aren’t planning on taking a day trip to Philly to find her?”

Tom scoffed. “It’s over, Luke.”

Luke glanced at Tom askance but complied with the request. “Fine, but I don’t want to see a single story unrelated to these interviews in the papers.”

“Cross my heart.” Tom made an exaggerated “x” on his chest.

“I’ve heard that before.” Luke groused as he made the plans.

When Tom received his itinerary, he was grateful Luke left an entire day empty.

“You know me too well, mate.” Tom commented as he saw the handwritten note at the bottom:

Here is a good car rental company. It is just under two hours to Philly. Be safe and tell her you love her.

\- Luke

Tom wasted no time to call the car company.

When he arrived on campus, it didn’t take him long to find your office. It was locked.

“Excuse me, do you know when the professor will return?” he asked a passing student.

“She is lecturing in Ames Hall. It's just down the corridor.”

“Thank you.” Tom took off.

He snuck into the back to the crowded lecture hall and listened in for a bit. He swore you glimpsed him. His stomach growled as he skipped breakfast to get on the road and he ducked out of the hall to get a quick snack.

As he headed back, he spied you outside your office. His heart leaped into his throat. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes in joy.

He stepped forward but stopped as a man approached you, and you threw your arms around him.

“Fuck!” Tom cursed as the two of you walked away. He collapsed on a nearby bench, uncertain where to go from here.

-

It was later in the day when Jason dropped off back at campus.

“Call him.” both Jason and Jess pleaded.

“Leave it be, you two. We have both moved on.”

“Is that why you swear you saw him in class today? Or that you haven’t even thought about dating since you got here?” Jess added.

“Goodbye you two.” You slammed the door and headed to pick up your things before heading home.

You noticed someone slumped over on a nearby bench. You stepped closer and noticed the red plaid shirt from earlier.

“Are you okay?” you inquired. “Tom?!”

Tom unfolded himself from the bench.

“Tom, it’s you! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in London?” Tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“I needed to see you. To talk to you. To explain why I didn’t call.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m listening.”

“I was so upset, I threw my phone and broke it. I left you a message but didn’t hear from you. I figured you might have moved on, but I was willing to take a chance. But I see I was right.”

“How long have you been sitting there? Are you talking about Jason?” You hooked your thumb behind you.

Tom sighed heavily. “So that’s his name.” He took your hands and held them tight. “I should have fought harder. I should have listened more. I am so sorry that you ever felt you couldn’t pursue your dreams with me by your side.” His thumbs ran across your knuckles.

You spied the tears falling down his cheeks. You opened your mouth to speak, but Tom cut you off.

“I want you to be happy. Whether that is with me or not. But above all, I want you to be happy. And if that means I never see you again, then so be it. But know I love you. I will always love you.”

“Tom—”

“Have a wonderful life.” Tom leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheeks. “Give me a call if you are ever in London.”

Tom turned on his heel and walked away.

“WAIT!!!” you screamed, and he stopped and turned to face you. You ran to meet him. “Did you mean it?”

“Every word. I have never lied to you.”

“Jason…” Tom turned his head away at the name. You grabbed his chin to have him face you. “… is Jess’s long-term boyfriend. He picked me up to meet her for lunch.”

Tom’s eyes widened as the words sunk in. “So…”

Your lips curled into a smile and your hands snaked up his torso, gripping the front of his shirt. “Nice shirt, Paul.”

Tom smiled back. “The name’s Tom.”

“Well, Tom. I think we should carry on this conversation in my office.” You tugged him along. “I think your shirt would look amazing on my floor.”

Tom smiled as you shut the door. “I only want to make you happy.”


End file.
